


Urulokë

by candleanon



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Between The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, Blood and Violence, Caring Thranduil, Depression, Did I mention a fire-drake?, Dragon Riders, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fire, Five Stages of Grief, Good Parent Thranduil, Kinda, Maglor (Tolkien) Through History, Middle Earth, Near Death, POV Thranduil, Protective Thranduil, Reader-Insert, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Slow To Update, The Author Regrets Everything, The Noldor, Thranduil Not Being An Asshole, like super slow lads, melkor is here A LOT, no more anti-dragons propaganda, take that tolkien, thranduil has ptsd
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:15:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28354542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candleanon/pseuds/candleanon
Summary: Faced with tribulation after the disappearance of her beloved father, Alfirin goes against the very nature of her kind in taking care of an abandoned baby dragon. Will their secret relationship help her to uncover the clues of her father's whereabouts, or will it all end in disaster when coming face to face with an Elven King?
Relationships: Thranduil (Tolkien)/Original Female Character(s), Thranduil (Tolkien)/Reader
Comments: 13
Kudos: 29





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> I'm a new writer here and I'm FINALLY publishing this story after having a whole year of self-doubt. 😂 
> 
> Alfirin : a Sindarin name, said to mean "not dying". 
> 
> Spotify Story Playlist link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6X8kqomT3u09krqiiV6MXS?si=guozgzBORxOa3mqwXB_lYw

**Prologue **

✵✵✵  
  


**IT** was the early morning hours that carried the civilians of Rivendell on their feet with the rise of the sun. Its fluorescent rays made its glorified presence known upon the terrain. The heat gravitated over the Elves' crystalline skin as they continued to move amongst the waves of others. A vast majority of them equated themselves to daily activities as they hindered through the available pathways for their duties and other leisure pursuits. However, amongst the countless bodies being pushed stood a broad elf-maiden inside the chaos. She was carrying a basket of supplies over her head as she aimlessly broke through the sea of people. 

Sounds of constant conversations, secrets being revealed, and the mention of a rising rebellion traveled through her ears, similar to the harp-like-melodies that her father used to lull her to sleep. However, all of this political talk paid no interest to her cynical-person, this news was like a broken record on repeat. Even with countless years of the same strategy, nothing had changed, as if there were any potential to change at all to begin with.. The tail of her transparent cape vanished through the seams of guards next to her as she glided in between armored bodies. The sunlight reflected on her skin, decorating it with small beads of colorless liquid. Within minutes, she finally arrived at her desired location.

It was hours that she stayed in front of the edge of the river. She prayed to Manwë, Yavanna, and always to Eru. Every morning as a tradition she dedicated a stone for each Valar. However, there was a stone that she kept close to her heart. It sparkled like moonlight despite being the darkest of them all. It garnished an onyx color and it was lined with crystal-like beads within its edges. It paled in comparison to the other stones Rivendell birthed along its banks, but she did not mind it. To her, the darkest one was the most unique. She held it against her chest as a reminder that she was alive; a gentle nudge that her senses were still intact. 

“My Lady, Lord Elrond asks for your presence in the library.”

She jumped suddenly as Lindir’s presence took her by surprise. As a result, her slender fingers dropped the obelisk stone and she saw it get smaller and smaller as it fell towards the riverbank. It made her heart ache to let it go much earlier than expected. 

She even forgot to give it a name. 

The young elf maiden let out a sigh from her lips and locked herself out of the trance-like state that she had cocooned herself in. She was looking towards the translucent river in front of her, blinking away the fresh tears she allowed herself to shed. Through watching the movement of the river’s ripples, she felt whole and balanced. This was another habit she found herself committed to. To Alfirin, having a form of structure was a feeling of safety. 

“I will be there soon.” She cooed. It was at that moment she got up and wiped away the dirt that settled on her knees. She looked once again to the clear water before her. 

_Father, can you hear me? Are you well, I wonder..._

The building was accompanied by a few stone sculptures, creating colossal-like shadows that hugged the sleeves of her clothing. Both Lindir and Alfirin walked towards the corridors of Rivendell and when they finally arrived at the open doors, Alfirin thanked the elf as Elrond gave him his welcome. Once she was motioned in by Lindir she let down the basket of the supplies she’d carried along. Wrapped away within her tunic, she let out a huff of air as she saw Elrond stable himself from the corner of her eyes. 

The library consisted of mountains of shelves filled with literature. Throughout the years, Alfirin would witness Elrond keeping all the scrolls that he would encounter. To this day she hadn't managed to read them all.The one that kept her interest was the map of Thorin and the moon letters inscribed within it. Elrond taught her his ways as it was their prominent past time whenever his sons pursued adventures and learned to become guardians of the domain. She remembered the days when the company of dwarves visited Rivendell for the first time, how their increasing reluctance of being in the same room as Elves made her giggle during the evening hours as she stood at the corner of the hall. That all changed once Elrond aided them to reclaim their homeland. It was the beginning of an unlikely friendship. 

“Brother.” 

“Sister.”

“I was told by Lindir that you called for me.” She stated as she went to sit down near the wooden table next to him, her fingers playing with the ends of her nails. 

“Alfirin, it has come to my attention you have been leaving to settle near the cliff by the river these past few mornings.” He confronted her. 

“Yes, that is true.” She could only speak her truth to him. She had learned her lesson centuries ago to not riddle a lie. 

“Tell me what has been bothering you. ”

She hesitated before letting her words escape from her lips. Her determination grew as she stared up at Elrond with vulnerability shining through her eyes. 

“It’s almost the anniversary of our father’s disappearance. ” 

Elrond sighed and continued to walk to the shelf that he was previously rearranging. 

“Yes, indeed be so.”

There was a stillness in the air as she waited for more of his response. She counted the seconds before she heard him speak. She was losing her patience. 

“Is there nothing you’re willing to do about it?” He reserved his calm at her questioning. Alfirin always tended to rival him. Even in their childhood with Maglor, they fought for every single thing. 

“He has not been seen wandering for some time.” He answered her. 

“What if he has traveled away from the water? Don’t you think he’s been trying to find us? We should be sending guards to villages, to kingdoms-” She objected, silently cursing the tears that were betraying her by being released from the pools of her eyes. She didn’t want to cry this time. At least not in front of him. 

“Believe me Alfirin, I want to see father as much as you do, but nothing is promised to us. Not even our immortality.”

Alfirin downcast her gaze towards the floor, counting the small cracks between her toes on the marble-stone. Her breath hitched as she let out the next few words that she couldn’t believe she would say. 

“I will find him.” 

Elrond stopped in his tracks and turned towards her. 

“I cannot sleep every night knowing that he is out there, wandering alone. I can’t find the peace within me to carry on without the reassurance. He is out there.” Alfirin did not want to admit that her dreams were starting to trap her every night. Choking her within their grasps and taunting her with the feeling of loneliness that she prayed every night to go away. She pleaded for her nightmares to be more forgiving to her as time went by. 

Elrond walked towards her with long strides and within a moment he was in front of her. Despite his height, she was not afraid of him. He was always kind. Stern, but always so gentle towards her. 

“You have obvious confidence, just like Maedhros. He had a way of commanding a room, armed with nothing but a look...though, at the same time, our father gave you his vulnerability; it's under your skin, yes, but I see it. I can assure you he would recognize it about you too. I say this because these are vital to the fierce soul I see before me now.” He went down on his knees in front of her as he took his hands in his. She searched deeply in his eyes for any existing doubt. 

“You say that as if I've earned battle scars. The only wars I've seen were fought with imaginary weapons when I was young and played pretend. The wars that we played together. ” She remarked at him. 

“I know of your intentions, Alfirin. But you have to understand, things are different now. The air is thickened with a darkness that I fear that once was locked away is now returning. And we will have to prepare for it. ” He was still at her feet, clinging to her hands. They always felt calloused to her. As the years went by, they only got worse and she was always next to him to heal them. 

“I’m asking for you to be accompanied by guards for this reason. I do not want to see you getting injured. If father does return...I want you to be here for it.” Alfirin felt a string of hope tug within her chest as he made his statement. She plunged towards him for an embrace almost knocking him to the ground. He smelled of lavender and rosemary. Elrond smiled as he felt her arms encompassing him. 

_He hasn’t forgotten about him just yet._ She thought to herself. 

“If that gives you a feeling of fulfillment, then let it be so. All I ask from you is your blessing. I promise you I will be safe. I will take as many guards with me as you wish, if it pleases you so. ” She took a hold of his hands and looked deeply into his eyes. Elrond smiled at her tentatively and brushed his thumbs over her knuckles. She turned her sight slightly away towards the elf standing near the doorway.

“Lindir, would you come with me?” His ears perked at her inquiry. He knew that a few hours with Lady Alfirin would mean a thrill.

Her grey eyes went to focus on Elrond and she challenged him with a glistening smile. One of his recurring favorites that he knew all too well ever since they were brought up together. 

“Let’s seek out the other side of the river bank. I haven’t seen if the garden has grown out its new season of flowers.” Her fingers let go of Elrond’s hands and he watched her skip her feet towards Lindir. Her long dark hair trailing behind her like the sun’s rays casting a rhythmic shadow. She waved goodbye to Elrond as she turned to face him once more and sought out Lindirs arms to hold onto in the blink of an eye. 

Elrond sighed to himself and looked towards the manuscripts he had put towards the table next to him. The thought of Maglor still being alive haunted him. It contrasted to what Alfirin believed of his feelings towards the matter. During her hours of deep grief, she would accuse him of forgetting about his past, in failing to recall the father that saved them and kept them under his guard. If it wasn’t for Maglor, neither Elrond and Alfirin would be alive today. Those assertions consistently hurt him, but he always forgave her once she came back in his arms asking for pardon. 

However, Elrond has had his fair share of tragedy throughout the ages. The death of Celebrían forced him to have his confrontation with grief. He found himself only to be able to withstand a certain number of deaths before he shut himself out from the world. Alfirin, on the other hand, had only lost her company. Surely the death of Celebrían overtook her, but it wasn’t in the same capacity as Elrond. He could not blame her for wanting to know the truth. Celebrían was able to give him the chance. He concluded that Alfirin should be granted the same. Nevertheless, it worried him. Alfirin had been born with a stubborn personality, always taking it upon herself to take care of matters that personally addressed her. It was only a matter of time until she realized the truth of what had happened to Maglor. It left Elrond hoping he was wrong about his disappearance. 

He shook his head and continued in his process of organizing, hoping that Alfirin would come to her senses once she was greeted by the new florets in the garden. 

  
  


✵✵✵

The two elves stepped outside of the library, Alfirin giggling with Lindir hand in hand. 

“Lindir, when was the last time you saw the flowers of Lórien?” She asked him. 

“It has been quite some time, my Lady. For the roads have been growing with monstrosities. I do remember seeing my last Elanor blooming amongst the trees. I hope to visit sometime in the near future when it is safer.” It was soon they came across a flight of stairs and they walked towards it. Alfrin’s tunic trailed behind as she fastened down with each step. 

“I share the same sentiment. I can’t recall the last time I went. I believe it was when Elrond and I were both young. However, I do remember the time when Lady Galadriel braided my hair with such ease. She almost put me to sleep.” She smiled to herself at the memory. Lindir tried to keep up with her for he knew Lady Alfirin was quick on her feet. He would often find her barefoot in the hallways, running down them whenever she finds herself in a new crusade. 

As they came across the landscape the grass glistened with the morning dew and they were both welcomed with a warm breeze. It felt like the start of summer and with that Alfirin felt a rush of happiness. She let go of Lindir’s hand as she went forward to check every blooming flower. He watched her whispering sweet nothings to their leaves. Alfirin held onto a strong belief that giving flowers weekly encouragement helped them live longer. Lindir found this habit to be peculiar, but he left her to do her matters as it let her feel somewhat at ease. He continued to look at her attentively as she graced each flower. After a few minutes, she turned toward him and he watched her darkened hair blowing ever so slightly against the wind. 

“Let’s go on a bit further. I want to see if the others started blooming.”

Both of them walked deeper into the forest and this left Lindir having an increase of hesitancy. His eyes shifted side to side and he stopped in his tracks. 

“My Lady, don’t you think we should be provided with more guards? We are walking towards the boundary of Rivendell.” Alfirin felt his apprehension by the feeling of sweat on his palms. 

“Nonsense Lindir. I’ve been on the corner of this realm since I was a child. I know it by heart, come!” Her hold on his hand only tightened and she took him alongside the stream. The smell of freshwater tickled their nostrils. She felt her heart race quicker. 

“Lindir, surely you must come with me on my walkthroughs of the area more often. I promise it is safe.” She reassured him with a gentle squeeze of her hand. 

“My Lady, do not mistake my hesitation with lack of trust. I wish to not cause you to be insulted.”

“Never that, my friend.” Her smirk and whimsical eyes were the last things Lindir witnessed before a helpless yelp came from her mouth. 

A sharp piercing pain shot through her feet which forced her to jolt her feet away from the cause of the sting. She tumbled across weeds and bushes as Lindir ran to her side. She found herself near the edge of the river and it was there she witnessed the broken dragon’s egg-laying bare for all of Middle-earth to see. The color of the egg was pitch black like a winter’s night sky. Alfirin awed at the sight of it as she took off the firm scale from the bottom of her foot. She moved forward with quiet ease. The sound of her movement pulled the baby dragon into a fetal position. Its eyes were tentatively closed as if it wanted to continue drowse. 

“My Lady...it’s..it’s,” Lindir whispered at her side. 

“A Urulokë. _”_ She silently mouthed in between her intake of breaths. Her shaking hands reached towards it and the serpent hissed. Its weakened state felt Alfirin’s pressuring presence. She gently brushed her fingertips on its complexion, wanting to feel every inch of it. The dragon’s scales rose up and down with each pant it took. Before she knew it, it leaned into her touch. Alfirin carefully nuzzled its head and within moments Lindir found her cradling the creature within her palm. The baby dragon opened its hellish eyes, welcoming the both of them with dark orbs that were similar in color of its scales and surrounding red cornered ends for pupils. It sent shivers down her spine and Lindir was left speechless seeing the creature letting her touch it. However, to Alfirin it felt like it was love at first sight. 

It felt like an eternity to Lindir watching her hold the creature close to her chest before she spoke again. 

“We must not abandon it.” Her back was still towards him and the only existing noise came from the dragon’s deep groans of sleep.

“My Lady, I don’t believe this is a good sign.” He tried to reason with her, but he knew at this moment there was no use. A baby dragon could only mean one thing and one thing only. 

“Promise me one thing Lindir, do not say to Elrond you were with me.” She coaxed.

The side of her face was towards him and he swore he saw tear streaks traveling down her cheek that had the appearance of lineage trees. Lindir looked down towards his boots and then back towards Alfirin’s sheltered back. He had no choice but to obey her. This discovery was in her hands now and his demure won its bidding over him. 

“Sweet thing, let me take you with me. '' Alfirin rendered with the breeze. 

  
  
  
  


✵✵✵

  
  
  
  
  


“My king?”

Thranduil touched the side of his face as a burning sensation tickled underneath his fingertips. Dread filled his blood as he looked towards Mirkwood forest before him.

“It has awakened.” He gritted between his teeth. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Once There Was A Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * PTSD Warning *

**Chapter 1**

**Once There Was A Dragon**

Alfirin awoke the next morning when she heard tiny chirps coming from underneath her bed. Her heavy eyes that were filled with drowsiness downcasted at the bottom of her silk mattress.

“Little one, don’t make too much noise.” She directed. In the dark, she saw tiny eyes filled with fear, but they soon relaxed as they saw her reassuring smile. 

“I know you are hungry, but it’s far too early for breakfast.” 

Alfirin took note of how untimely the baby dragon awakened and the way it would flap around her room during the night. Despite keeping her up in the early morning hours, she took comfort in having the creature with her. 

When she brought it to her room she would let it wander around, smelling all the furniture and clothing she had. She thought his presence would make her feel safe during the dead of night when she was struggling with her nightmares. 

She prepared herself for the morning, braiding her hair with composure, and picked the lightest dress in weight to wear. Memories followed her as she looked at her complexion. She remembered the days when she arrived in Rivendell and how she felt lost walking down the hallways, and the way she would run to Elrond for safety when she got disoriented. During the days of his absence, she secluded herself in the kitchen and the library waiting for his return and would rejoice when he heard his voice behind doors. 

But Rivendell felt different to her now. She had memorized every line between the walls and the number of steps she had to take to get to certain rooms. She retained the different melodies that the elves would mold together as they sat down to eat and the way the water would smell by the waterfalls. 

For Alfirin, Rivendell was not a place to call home. And it was never meant to be. 

✵✵✵

Lindir was standing outside of Alfirin’s quarters. She requested to have him be kept near her when not in need of assistance for Elrond. It has been several hours since her discovery of the fire-drake and Lindir managed to keep her secret even though it bothered him with great unsettledness. 

He proposed that Lady Alfirin would not hear the end of it if Lord Elrond managed to discover one of Morgoth’s creations was resting in the Hidden Valley. Fire-drakes have not been heard of since the death of Smaug and even when they have been discovered they were far too weak to conquer lands and therefore easily killed. Alfirin’s discovery proved this theory with the dragon being too frail to even fly from her hands, but it still concerned him. 

He bit the inner corner of his cheek as he found himself being lost in his thoughts. He then heard the doorknob turn and he quickly corrected his posture. 

“My Lady, mae govannen.” He greeted her with his hand across his chest. 

“Mae govannen, Lindir. ” Her jet-black hair was decorated with intricate braids that revealed her oval-shaped face. 

“I hope you rested well.” Lindir’s voice sounded smooth as he questioned her sleep. He knew the number of times she had heavy bags under her eyes and how she sought after medicine to help her sleep.

“I did. The little one did not make a fuss at night.” A smirk appeared at the corner of her lips. 

“That is good to hear.” He uttered as both of them started to walk. 

“Tell me, is Elrond here?” She asked him. 

“He went on a ride with Elladan and Elrohir.” 

“Ah wonderful, it gives me enough time to train this little dragon of mine.” Lindir wanted to stop her in her tracks. He felt that Alfirin was getting too confident in caring for a beast at such an early stage.

“My Lady, I do not want to interfere with your unearthing, but I advise you to speak with Elrond about the….creature.” He proposed to her. 

Alfirin stopped to look at him briefly with a slightly stern look. 

“My heart desires to wait to tell him in the future.”

She began walking again, leaving Lindir to catch up to her once more. 

“Do you not believe this is an alarming finding?”

“I do not feel Morgoth’s presence in his soul, Lindir.” She defended herself. 

“It is still young, but what about in the future?” He questioned as they were walking towards the kitchen. Alfirin started to get displeased with his constant questioning. She bit her tongue and she looked at him with her piercing eyes. 

“The future is the future, my friend. I am only worried about the present. Nothing more and nothing less.” She opened the main doors and begrudgingly walked in.

There was a silence between them until Alfirin decidedly broke it. The smell of fresh pastries perforated the air and Alfirin forgot about all her troubles. 

“I wish to change the subject if you don’t mind? Have you eaten today?” Lindir only nodded as he cast his gaze down away from her face. Certainly, this discussion was not heading in the right direction.

“Good, that makes me happy. Do you know if the kitchen has any leftover food?” She inquired. 

“I can check for you, my Lady.” He reassured her. 

“Thank you, Lindir.”

A wave of regret overcame Alfirin as she saw Lindir leave. His back walked away from her once he closed the door. She could not blame him for wanting her to be safe. Elrond would have never allowed the dragon to be kept in his realm. However, she felt it in her heart that it was not born with evil. She wanted to take it upon herself to persuade Elrond in keeping it under her guard until she was able to determine if it had good intentions. 

She did not feel it was fair for her to treat Lindir in such a way for being the caring elf that he is. Lindir has been with her since she could remember. Her love for him was one of a sister's love for a brother. And she did not want to lose one of the few people she had in her life. 

As she felt Lindir's presence return, she went back to look at his complexion with fondness. She walked towards him and took the small napkin wrapped with food from his hands. 

“Lindir, there is nothing to be afraid of. I will carry this burden.” Alfirin began. 

“Please, let me apologize for my behavior. I have not been acting like myself lately, as you might have noticed. It is near the anniversary of my father's disappearance and as the years pass by I fear that my grief is making me go mad.” 

Lindir gazed at her with sympathy. 

“This dragon...might be the closest form of stability in my life. ” She confessed to him. 

He saw her eyes get watery and he took her hands in his. She was so close to him he was able to count the number of distinctive shades of grey in her eyes. 

“He shines, but he does not burn.” She whispered in a heartening manner. 

✵✵✵

Inside the Woodland Realm's halls stood Thranduil dressed in a robe with details of elegant champagne-colored lines and a silver crown that was embellished on top of his head with red berries and ocherous colored leaves. 

“Feren, bring Legolas to me.” 

The loyal guard walked towards where Legolas was and he returned with the prince. Legolas stepped out to Thranduil with a perplexed look upon his face. 

“Yes, father?”

Thranduil started to pour more wine into his cup as he recognized his son by reflection in the mirror. He opened his mouth to speak with a deep voice that resonated through the walls. 

“Have the generals from Lake-town arrived with their trade?” 

“Not yet,” Legolas answered. 

Thranduil walked across the room, flask in hand, and stirred it. 

“They have not taken this long before.” 

“The roads have gone rougher as of yet,” Legolas remarked as he stared at his father roaming. 

His presence was exuberant as ever. 

“Have you heard of any rumors of fire-drakes wandering around in the forest from fellow guards?” Thranduil continued with his questioning. 

“Not that I know of.” 

The Elvenking looked vacantly towards the forest once again. He mauled over how the sun cast itself onto the leaves of the trees. 

“If you hear anything, come to me.”

Legolas felt a sentiment of concern that ached in his chest. He found his father further isolating himself in his chambers and the number of drinks he consumed only increased by the hour. 

“What is the matter?”  Legolas’ words to him echoed through his ears. 

The Elvenking closed his eyes to hold onto reality. However, his mind failed him as it forced him to travel backward in time. It journeyed to the land where elves were dying in one swift motion and screams of agony were heard from every corner of the horizon. The scent of elven blood was the only thing Thranduil smelled for hours on end. His legs were aching as he dragged his boots on heavy marshes and the sky above him darkened to a ghastly red as he came closer to the mountain that was home for one of Morgoth’s deadliest creations. A fire-drake with poisonous blood and black tarnished scales that were garnished onto its skin. His body created shadows that cast over the melting earth.

Thranduil’s guards attempted to trap the dragon near the edge of the summit. He witnessed them using their shields against the beast’s deadly fire and launching their arrows. 

The clanging of swords struck against its iron-armored skin and booming laughter expelled from the creature’s chest. It shook the ground below them and it led to cracking of the surrounding trees from their roots and the clouds diminishing from their colossal forms above their heads. The elves were pushed forward on their knees, breaking their backs. And it was when the dragon released its flame from its avenging mouth, perishing the elves that stood before it. Thranduil witnessed their death with terror inflicted in his eyes. Their remains dropped to the ground and the one thing left was their armor. His lips quivered at the sight and his hold on his sword tightened as he made his way towards the demented creature. 

The sweat that once was drowning his vision evaporated like steam as he became closer to the shadowed being while he trudged towards numerous dead bodies on the ground. He made sure to not taint them with his boots. 

As he got to the feet of the dragon, he charged with his sword as blinding light escaped from its scales. He yelled with all the air in his lungs and attempted to break its skin once more until the dragon’s long serpentine neck twisted in the direction of the Elvenking's. It hissed and crackled flames down at him. Thranduil darted underneath the flames, swinging his sword and shouting curses. 

At the corner of his eyes, he saw Turmë arriving at his side. His eyes appeared wild and in his hand, he held his sword and a horn. Within that moment of recognition, the dragon took the opportunity for its attack. In the blink of an eye, Thranduil was pushed to the ground by Turmë as a ripple of hellish flames was cast down towards them and it was then Turmë took the burden of sacrifice to plunge his sword into the dragon’s chest. The Elvenking saw his remaining guard lay down his life for him. The monster roared and tore through the mountain, vanishing from existence. Thranduil’s senses heightened as he noticed surviving flames at the side of his face, crackling through his porcelain skin and burning deep through layers. He screamed in terror as he tried to vanquish the blaze by rolling onto his stomach. He sobbed as the sky opened with rain. 

It felt like centuries as he laid there and the pain of his injuries increased despite the rain that trickled down his skin. He heard the calls of Men and Elves down the mountain and he searched with his hands to find the horn that was dropped by Turmë. His fingers grasped at the instrument and took a blow to make his presence known. It was only moments when the last remaining members of his army arrived at his location and saw their king on the ground with a melting face, silver hair bloodied, and a convulsing body. 

Thranduil touched his flask with his fingertips and he opened his eyes. 

“It is nothing.” He replied. 

He took a sip of his wine to drown the bad taste in his mouth in recalling the painful memory. 

  
  


✵✵✵

In the Halls of Rivendell, Alfirin dismissed Lindir and she went back to her bed-chamber only to find out the baby dragon was not under her bed. 

“Child, where are you?” She asked into the profound darkness.

Suddenly, she felt a breeze coming towards the right side of her body as the dragon perched on her shoulder. 

“You are truly magical, do you know that?” The dragon’s eyes gleamed at her statement. She swore she saw a hint of a smile from its mouth. 

“I have some food for you.” 

She gently put him down on her table and reached for the napkin that safely kept vegetables and pieces of raw fish out of her linen pocket. The creature gnawed at her palm as she presented the food to it. Its searing teeth made small lacerations across her skin. She clenched her teeth at the penetrating sensation as small amounts of blood traveled down the side of her hand. 

Once it was done eating, she pulled back her hand to inspect the damage. 

“We will have to train you in getting some manners.” Her delicate fingers went towards the baby dragon's ears to scratch behind them. 

“You’re far more intelligent than you appear to be. What do you say about naming you?” The small shadow of a creature looked at her and tweaked its head to the side.

“Vílë, I shall call you. Do you like that?” She giggled at how quickly the creature enjoyed her affections by nestling further into her hand. Her chuckling was heard down the hall. 

Elrond had returned from his trip quicker than expected. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> vílë : "gentle breeze"   
> turmë : governing power, strength


	3. Foretelling

_✵✵✵_

_"Like this, Ada?”_ _Alfirin’s small fingers gently grasped the fine string of Maglor’s harp. She was sitting on his lap, carrying his musical instrument in between her legs. It was the first few months of his fostering of Elrond, Elros, and Alfirin. They were together within the realm of_ _Beleriand._ _Most importantly, both of the brothers wanted to manage to take care of the younger ellons. Maglor, out of the two of them, entertained them with the fragments of music, literature, and poetry._

_“Yes, now string it.”_

_She plucked it and she felt a slight vibration upon her fingertip. Her eyes widened at the new sensation._

_“That is your beginning note, you must always start with this to compose others.” He instructed._

_“One day, I want to be able to play like you.” Her small voice uttered._

_Maglor smiled at her melancholically. Pensive in thought._

_“You will need all the practice you can get. You must have patience with yourself. The art of music-making takes time just like with any other skill you will obtain in life.” As he began playing his harp, the sweetest of melodies entered through Alfirin’s ears. She sensed each note running and she envisioned a story as Maglor played his tune._

_Suddenly, the door was opened and Maedhros entered the sun-lit room. The hair that framed his face reminded her of whirls of fire and the forsaken sun fighting for room in the cerulean sky._

_“Maglor, I desire to speak to you in private,” Maedhros remarked._

_Maglor took the little elleth off his lap and reassured her he would return to continue their music lesson. Once he was letting himself out, Elrond slipped inside the room. He waited a bit until he could no longer hear the two Feanorians speaking down the hallway. When he felt confident to speak, he sauntered towards Alfirin._

_“I think they are going to leave us behind. I hear them whispering in a different language I cannot comprehend.”_

_“What makes you say that?” Alfirin’s eyes followed him as he sat beside her. He held a book in his hand, she didn’t bother looking at the cover._

_“The way they talk by themselves nowadays. It wasn’t like that in the beginning.” He told her._

_She held onto his words and she stared at the harp. Could it be she was going to be alone once more?_

_“I do not understand.” She breathed out._

_“Neither do I.” Elrond’s eyes looked at her own one last time until he got up and left the room. Alrifin looked down at the golden harp that was placed before her and she thought about the possible remaining hours she had left with Maglor before he would indefinitely leave them to an unknown future._

✵✵✵

Her childhood memory evaporated as she looked down at her inflicted palm. The same hand that Vílë imposed his bite markings on her moments before. She wrapped it up with a clean linen bandage as she recalls her younger days. Her mind traveled in reminiscence of the way Maglor’s armor smelled every night before he put her to bed and the way his voice would aid her to sleep. With hushed whispers in the middle of the night, he spoke to her about the many stories he had on his journeys. 

The sun that once was bright had finally slowly dwindled its radiance and the outline of the mountains began to bloom in replacement. Her eyes darted towards her window and her skin glowed under the moon. At the corner of her eyes, she saw Vílë lounging on top of a stack of books that she had on her nightstand. His body swayed with every silent breath he took. 

It was only several moments until the doorknob slowly began to turn. Alfirin jumped as her ears caught the sudden noise. Elrond’s head peered through the door, his eyes looking fixedly across the room. 

“Elrond.” 

The dragon that was once napping in front of her flew immediately to her lower back, piercing his claws to her skin. She hissed between her teeth. Her back arched as she felt small amounts of blood dripping through her gown. 

“Alfirin, I have been looking for you.” He stops in his tracks as he sees her grimacing. It was only then he felt two eyes that burnt like coals looking at him from behind her waist. Her hands traveled as she attempted to have the dragon not continue latching onto her back.

“No, no, get down!” She reprimanded Vílë. But the creature traveled from her back to rapidly coiling its tail around her arm and clasping himself to her sleeve. 

“I see you have a new companion.” Elrond voiced as he continued to walk closer towards them both. Vílë chirped freely as he sunk deeper into her skin. Alfirin looked at her brother with a face of weariness and confusion. Elrond crouched down to the dragon before him, looking deeply into his eyes as if he was hypnotizing it. Alfirin held her breath as she watched him look at Vílë. She felt her body start to shake out of fear and anticipation. The blood that ran through her turned cold. 

“He is a young one.” She heard him say after several moments of dead silence. His brows arched with curiosity and Vílë perked his head towards him. 

“You are not angry with me?” Alfirin’s voice carried an air of meekness. 

“I have never been angry with you, however, I am disappointed for the length of time you kept this from me. ” He carried his legs to walk around her room until he picked up a vase with flourishing flowers inside of it. 

“I have been aware of it for some time now,” Elrond confessed to her. Vílë continued to safely tug his whip-like tail around her arm. Alfirin frowned as she stared at him. 

Elrond turned his attention towards his sister and noticed the bandage on her hand. As he approached, he took her hand in his and investigated the wound. Small prints of light blood shown through the fabric. Alfirin held her breath once more.

“He did this to your hand, I assume?” 

She nodded her head. 

“He must be properly trained. Fire-drakes are just like ellons, you know. ” Alfirin felt her skin tingle as she felt her brother’s hands gently graze her skin. Within moments, she no longer saw the incisions. Her eyes looked at Elrond’s for a short moment until they went back towards her healed hand. To this day, she hasn’t gotten accustomed to his abilities. Every time he had the opportunity to show her, she was always mesmerized by his powers. She felt his eyes laid on her. 

“Come with me.” His voice bellowed. 

They traveled to the outskirts of Rivendell, crossing the monuments and carvings of ancient scriptures. Vines poked through walls and flowers decorated every corner of each building. She smelled the scent of moon roses and she felt herself go slightly calm. However, she felt the cold breeze under the moonlight which caused Vílë to sweep under her arm, sheltering himself from the gust. As they continued to walk, Alfirin watched Elrond’s hair sway side to side with each long step he took. Her feet sought speed to catch up to him. They reached a hidden den that was built with ironwood on top of a hidden hill. A door was framed in front. He turned his head to look at her, nudging his head to have her open the door. She hesitated for a moment until her hands went to grab the frigid doorknob. 

It opened to mere darkness and a small cage was hidden at the end of the room. Alfirin stared at it and her dragon flew inside the den in one swift movement. His wings cracked like fire sparks against the wind. 

“Vílë!” She called out, her arm reaching towards the creature. Elrond went behind him urging her to get inside.

“He would need to stay here for now.” He said to her as he locked the small dragon inside of its cage. Vílë walked around his new home, digging its claws into the ground of the cage. He lowered his body, looping his body for warmth. Alfirin watched his serpent eyes close once he settled himself. 

“I fear he might burn down Rivendell if he ever has a temper” Elrond teased her. 

“I will have no misbehaved dragon.” She smiled at him as she went to place a tea towel on top of the cage. However, she knew it made no difference to the small brute. Dragon's have heightened senses, but it made her feel better knowing he had a lasting comfort for the night. 

"Let us go back, I have to inform you of something important."

They strolled as they returned to the paths of Rivendell. Under the moonlight, she recognized the pathway to Vílë's hideaway, her eyes stared back at the hidden den. A wave of melancholy smeared through her heart.

"Am I able to visit him as much as I desire?" She asked of her unwavering brother. 

"Of course. He has imprinted on you. He sees you as his mother already." He reassured her. Their feet left footprints against the dewy grass and as they entered back into the study room he led her in front of a small bookshelf. He traced each bookend with his fingertips until he came to a halt. 

“I have witnessed your future.” He told her, eyes filled with regret and dejection. 

“Your life will change for the better, but there will be a sacrifice that must be made for the other areas in your life to bloom.” 

“Will this be my undoing?” She asked of him. 

“Only if you let it. You will learn to rely on yourself more than others even if it means being alone. ” Her heart drops at his statement. The fear of abandonment crawled into her skin and she felt her forehead perspire. All she wanted in life was to have a place she can call home, wasn't that enough? Elrond felt her hesitation that coursed through her veins. He embraced her as he knew his vision had granted her uncertainty of who she was meant to be and what she desired to become. 

“Right now you’re in the waiting, so many people lose focus in the waiting.” He whispered with gentle easiness into her ears and she felt pulled inside of a sense of tranquility through his embrace. 

“Take him with you on your journey in finding Maglor. He will serve you well.” He advised her as he walked out of the room once he let her go, leaving her alone with her thoughts. 

✵✵✵

That night, Arwen visited her room with a hairbrush in one hand and a scented oil in the other to help her sleep. Alfirin took the opportunity to ask about her knowledge of the creatures controlled under Morgoth. A candle was burning in front of the mirror as she stared at her reflection. 

"Dragons are gone, Alfirin." Arwen informed. The elleth's eyes fell to the floor as she felt Arwen's fingers carefully detangle her hair from her braids. 

“What if they come back? What if they have the potential to become good?” Alfirin asked. 

“Under Morgoth’s shadow, nothing is ever truly good,” Arwen answered with a hint of confidence. Alfirin's shoulders were tensed and she could not remember the last time she felt relaxed. Living in Rivendell had been weighing her down with the task of finding Maglor and she could not forgive herself if she continued in delaying the journey. 

_Tomorrow_

She told herself. 

✵✵✵

It was in the middle of the night when the Elvenking was persecuted with countless nightmares of the fire-drake. Every night he would get closer to the being and every night he was able to smell the smoke that flared through its nostrils and the heat of its fire touching his flesh. 

He got closer to it as he perceived it. Inches away from its face. And every time he would arch forward to look deeper into its eyes the shadow of Morgoth revealed itself inside the pupils of the creature.

The Elvenking felt himself lean back, plummeting into a world of darkness. His throat burned with his unheard screams. 

Silver strands of hair molded against the shape of his face as a result of heavy amounts of sweat poured out of his skin. The sheets that surrounded him were damped. He choked as he opened his eyes and felt the air escape out of his lungs. His eyes attempted to orient himself in his darkened room. He dragged himself out of bed, muscles aching from the day full of training and hours spent reading in the library. He searched endless amounts of information on what he was able to find about the remaining dragons on Middle-earth. The words on the page started to blur and the names of famous mountains and slayings of dragons came to merge all as one. Thranduil felt it upon himself to eliminate the surviving dragon if it was the last thing he could do. 

His eyes traveled to the end of the room and he focused on the mirror until he felt himself fall asleep. In his dream, the last thing he saw was a vast landscape of trees and the smell of burning leaves. A black dragon with scales sharp as snake fangs flew in front of the sun, consuming the light of the world all at once. His eyes searched around the dragon for its weakness, smoke itching his eyelids. 

It was then he saw a silhouette on the dragon's back. His eyes grew wide. 

_An elleth._

Her eyes were grey as thunderstorms, infinite whirlpools willing to drown anyone that was in her way. She held his gaze for several moments until she charged herself towards him. The dragon twisted under her and his wings roared like thunder. The air went still. Thranduil’s grip around the blanket became tighter at the sight of her. 

Her eyes weren’t tired, they were heavy, and he knew that if he looked at her any longer she would drag him down to a place where he would remember nothing but the sound of her name and the look of those eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the late update, I just moved out of my hometown + started my nursing school classes again. I also didn't have internet for nearly a week and came with a cold, such is life 😅 I hope everyone is healthy and safe! ❤
> 
> My social media:  
> twitter: @trentrxnor

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank @OneWhoICouldFollow for being so sweet, supportive, and a lovely friend. She's honestly the reason I even finished writing this prologue. If you haven't gone and read her stuff, I highly recommend it!! You're missing out on a lot of good writing. ❤❤❤


End file.
